


I’ll let you put popcorn in my hood...

by DropsOfAddiction



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BAMF Stiles, Blow Jobs, Bottom Derek Hale, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, FBI Agent Derek Hale, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, First Time, Jealous Derek, Jealous Derek Hale, M/M, Misunderstandings, Possessive Derek, Possessive Derek Hale, Protective Derek, Rimming, Stiles Stillinski is also bad at feelings, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 16:15:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15053030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DropsOfAddiction/pseuds/DropsOfAddiction
Summary: Derek does hold the wolf back, barely, but Stiles is thrown enough, that when he kicks out again, Derek grabs his leg and yanks, pulling the younger man into his body. When they slam together, Derek gets his arms around him, Stiles’ own arms pinned to his sides, under Derek’s hold.He gently lifts Stiles off the ground, squeezing him tight enough to let him know that he’s won this and he could do some serious rib damage if he wanted to. They’re pressed front to front and they both are breathing heavily now. Stiles grits his teeth and they’re face to face, Stiles’ toes just off the floor.“Give?” Derek whispers to him, so close he can feel Stiles’ breath ghosting over his lips.“Yeah,” Stiles exhales.





	I’ll let you put popcorn in my hood...

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve no idea what happens in my head, I just let it out sometimes and then this occurs! Hope you enjoy x

The physical training room in the FBI academy is white walled and bland, with high ceilings and bright lights. Stiles is standing completely alone in the room, smack in the middle of the squeaky gym floor, completely stationary, for once in his life. He has his arms loose at his sides and his head is tilted back as far as he can stretch it without toppling over backwards, with his eyes closed. He is wearing his FBI standard black training vest and gym shorts and he thinks he must stand out against the harsh white walls in here. He’s breathing evenly.

It’s 7am, the sun is just coming up through the really high windows and the silence is beautiful to him. He is meditating. Or a Stiles version of meditating. That sitting down, legs crossed, thumb and finger pressed together shit, didn’t work for him. But this did. Emptying his mind didn’t work for him either, so in his version, he stands like this and then he thinks. He processes. This calms him in a way he supposes generic meditation does for other people.

He spares a thought for how he’s gotten here. A year ago today he’d applied to Quantico and today is the day he gets to find out whether or not he has made it as an agent. His trainer, Mr. Smith (very original alias), is announcing the results in this very room at 8am today. So what if he’s a little keen, this is his whole career plan. He’s not worried. He’s worked hard, but they do have a habit of throwing a curve ball at you here.

Literally no one had been surprised with his career choice back home. Lydia had shrugged, Scott had beamed at him and his Dad had clapped him on the back, a little bit glassy eyed and told him he was proud of him, whatever his career choice. 

Stiles’ unhealthy obsession with solving his Dad’s cold cases when he was younger, along with all the supernatural on the job training he’d acquired in the last four years at Beacon Hills, had over qualified him for most jobs.

It kind of sealed his fate when over the past summer he’d worked at the local coffee shop to earn some cash and he kept seeing vampires and demons in the coffee foam. It wasn’t until Scott literally took his 8th drink of coffee out of his hands that one day, that he realised he was destined to look for the odd in everything, he may as well embrace it. Plus, being somewhere where he couldn’t mainline coffee would probably allow for a longer lifespan.

What did cause everyone a lot of surprise however was the fact that Derek Hale, resident alpha werewolf and general badass with a criminal record, had applied right alongside him and got in.

To be fair, it had taken a strongly worded letter from his Dad’s department admitting they’d had some extremely unreliable sources (namely Stiles) when they’d put a warrant out for Dereks’ arrest to even get them to consider his application.

It had also taken a phone call from Scott to his own Dad, then in turn from Scott’s Dad to the FBI director, to just get Derek accepted to the trial period.

Both Sheriff John Stilinski and Agent McCall had agreed Derek was on his own after that.

Derek to this day still doesn’t know about Stiles asking his father and Scott to interfere on his behalf. Derek would never have asked for help himself and as soon as Stiles found out the surly, stubbled, self deprecating dude wanted something for himself for a change, he had asked for help. 

Stiles knew Derek wouldn’t even get a look in with an arrest warrant on his file. Plus, it was kind of Stiles’ fault in the first place that he even had an arrest warrant. 

Stiles, still “Medi-stiles-ing” let’s his mind wander to the evening he found out Derek was back in town, just over a year ago.

 

——————————

Stiles jerked awake and looked for his clock. His room is dark with a slight orangey tinge of sunrise and he makes a muffled sound of shock and bangs his head on the wall when he sees a figure, lurking at the end of his bed.

"Stiles it's me," the unknown attacker says quietly, putting a hand out toward him, as if that will stop the pounding of his heart and general flailing of his limbs.

"Motherfucker," Stiles bites out quietly, not being able to mistake that deep growl anywhere, even though it’s been nearly year since he’s seen him.

Stiles flicks his bedside lamp on and he rubs at his eyes, trying to get with the programme. His clock reads 5am.

He blinks once, twice and stares at Derek, who is still holding one hand out, palm facing him, so as not to spook him.

Derek is looking... Well Derek is looking fucking great. His stubble is still the same, his hazel, brown, grey, whatever they are, eyes are still the same, wide and long lashed and he's still got the toned torso. 

Stiles drags his sleepy eyes down over the Derek standard Grey Henley and dark jeans but the big difference is Derek looks relaxed. He looks tanned and he's smiling. 

“It's a good fucking look on him,” Stiles thinks.

“I can see that it’s you,” Stiles deadpans him, voice gravelly from sleep.

Derek shuffles from one foot to the other.

The silence is deafening.

Of course both of them try to speak at once.

“About time you showed up...” Stiles is loud.

“I missed you...” Derek is quiet.

“You missed me?” Stiles’ smile is small but Derek feels it in his blood.

“Well... when you gave me a chance to, between the daily texts you sent me, I did...” Derek grins at him and Stiles’ heart feels like it’s going to pop. He’s not sure if it’s in a good way.

“Don’t even front, you know what they say, a different cat picture a day, keeps the werewolves away,” Stiles sits up in bed.

“No one says that...” Derek returns.

“Lies...” Stiles yawns and Derek seems to take that as his cue.

“Well... I’m back... I just wanted to let you know. First. Let you know first. I’m going to head out to the loft and see if it’s liveable for now. It’s good to see you Stiles...” Derek turns to leave the way he came in, via Stiles’ open window.

He’s got one leg out when Stiles quietly call to him.

“Pack BBQ here on Saturday night.. bring potato salad, it starts at 7...” and Derek tenses.

“I’ll be there...” he doesn’t turn around but Stiles can tell he’s smiling again by the tone of his voice.

That is how he knows he’s truly fucked. He tries unsuccessfully to smother himself with his pillow and eventually falls asleep. 

If he dreams of stubble grazing his lips, he can hardly be blamed for that can he?

 

——————————

 

The night of the BBQ had been amazing, one of Stiles’ favourite evenings of all time. The entire pack was there, his Dad, Scott’s Mom, Chris, Lydia, Scott, Alison and of course Derek. 

It felt whole. He felt complete.

When everyone had mostly gone home, it had left his Dad, Derek and him sitting, waiting for the last embers of the fire to go out. Derek had insisted staying to ensure it was done and Stiles knew better than to argue with him on this one.

His dad, rosy cheeked from all the beer and steak bid his goodnight to the two boys and left them, beers in hand, lounging on chairs in the garden, enjoying the dying warmth of the fire pit.

Stiles and Derek don’t even talk for a while, just sit and enjoy each other’s company.

Stiles of course, is the one to break the silence. 

“So I got accepted to the FBI. You came back last week and I had a letter this morning. It’s a good week...” he says and watches for Derek’s reaction.

He doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or not when Derek just keeps staring into the flames, beer loose in his hand, expression not changing.

“What do you think?” Stiles nudges his ankle with his foot and Derek looks down at it. 

He doesn’t look back up when he replies.

“You know you’re going to be absolutely amazing at it,” Derek says quietly.

“Yes, but what do you think?” Stiles smiles and nudges him again. He swears Derek has a tinge of red in is eyes when he brings them up to meet Stiles’ brown ones.

“I think...” he starts and Stiles isn’t imagining it when he feels Derek leaning closer.

“What?” Stiles can practically feel Derek’s breath on his lips.

“I think I’m going to apply as well,” Derek says, inches from his mouth.

“What?!” Stiles shrieks and drops his beer, getting it all over Derek and himself.

It definitely breaks the tension in the moment.

“Are you serious? Oh my god, you would be amazing you know that right? Plus you’d be like a tracker dog with your sense of smell. They might let us be partners! It would be like Turner and Hooch!” And he rambles on for about another hour.

Derek can’t bring himself to stop him and even lets Stiles fill out his application for him. 

What he doesn’t tell Stiles is what he really thinks. That he’d needed to be away for a while this past year to properly grieve his sister. He’d needed to become a better person so he could start wanting things again. That after coming back to Beacon hills after so long, he’d found over the past week that he could only really think of one reason to stay here. That he’d only really come back for one reason. Lastly, the most important thing he doesn’t tell him is he is he is just about ready to follow that reason, to the ends of the earth. The FBI feels like a good place to start.

When Derek gets accepted a week later, he feels like he’s on top of the world and for once, he isn’t standing alone.

 

——————————

 

A familiar voice snaps Stiles back to the gym, out of Stiles-itating (he’s still not getting a word that fits for that) but he still doesn’t change his posture.

“Are you doing your weird assed Stiles-chi again?” Derek unmistakably growls.

Stiles shakes his limbs out, annoyed x100 that Derek’s coined a better name for it, than he could come up with.

He turns around.

It’s been nearly 3 years since Stiles Stillinski first saw Derek Hale wet and shirtless. Back then, it had been a life or death situation where Derek had been paralysed by Kanima venom and Stiles had dutifully held him afloat for hours in a pool and he’d changed his clothes in front of him afterwards.

Now, Stiles feels like he’s worlds away from that little scenario.

He literally can’t help it when he rakes his eyes down his soon to be partner’s (if they have any luck, which actually, they usually don’t, but shut up brain) body and back up to his face. Derek is standing with his hands on his hips and he’s just wearing his tight black training shorts and his running shoes. 

His black hair is damp from the shower and he’s clutching his vest in his hand.

His dick twitches and he prays to the heavens that Derek’s too sleepy to notice his arousal. The man looks like sex on a stick. Stiles wants to run his tongue down his dark happy trail into his shorts.

“Stiles... are you ok?” Derek is frowning at him.

“You look... wet. And you don’t have a shirt on,” Stiles accuses weakly.

“Well I’ve just had a shower. I was waiting for my hair to dry before putting my vest on,” Derek explains slowly, confused. 

But Stiles thinks he sees his nostrils flare and Derek actually smiles. With teeth. He looks predatory and takes a step closer to him.

Stiles hands twitch at his sides. He wants to touch. Touch and lick. Everywhere.

Derek stops literally inches from Stiles body. 

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Derek is still smirking. The bastard. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Well, he shouldn’t mess with Stiles’ emotions like that. It’s not fair, if he uses the fact that he knows Stiles wants him, against him. 

Stiles licks his lips and Derek tracks the movement. His eyes snap back to Stiles’, guiltily, but it’s too late.

Stiles narrows his eyes and suddenly it’s game on.

 

Derek’s eyes are starting to close and he leans in as Stiles says,

“Right, get on the training mat Der,” and walks away from him.

Derek has to hold back his growl.

“What?” Derek’s brain is having trouble catching up and he thinks it’s possibly due to all his blood being in his dick. Stupid Stiles and his stupid tongue and lips.

Stiles is stretching out his legs on the big training mats.

“The results are getting me all anxious, I want to work out some tension before everyone else gets here. Let’s go big guy,” he says, bending over to touch his toes, ass facing Derek.

Derek’s brain isn’t even computing by this stage. They always joke around but this feels like they’re taking it a step further. Derek’s never wanted to push Stiles, he’s not even sure if Stiles is into guys. He’s always just stayed by his side, being the best friend he could be and if Stiles decides he wants him, then Derek will be the happiest man on the planet. But he’s not going to take Stiles’ choice from him. He’s four years older and goddamn it, he will he be four years more responsible. 

Except Stiles sometimes makes it hard. Literally.

Lately, especially this morning... something feels different to their usual joking around.

Derek walks over to the mat and pulls his vest on and he doesn’t miss the hint of sadness in Stiles’ eyes.

“I say, we spar. We can use any training we want and best of three pins, loser buys all the celebratory beers when we become fully fledged agents...” Stiles is grinning and his energy is infectious. 

“Oh it’s on,” Derek jumps on the mat and starts stepping from foot to foot.

“But no werewolf strength,” Stiles adds. “Only your natural abilities.”

“Still going to kick your ass,” Derek grins, and he loves this, how fun and easy it is with him.

The truth is, Derek isn’t so sure he’s going to win. Stiles has always been strong but in the past year, he’s turned to all lean muscle and he’s the same height as Derek now. He’s still built totally different to Derek but he’s stronger than he was. He looks great, not that he didn’t before. His physical strength is actually a match for non-wolf Derek some days, making up for the muscle difference in speed.

Stiles moves back and forth, graceful like a cat, as he points out to Derek every single time they train together.

“Let’s go big guy, I’m like a cat, you can’t catch me,” Stiles is cackling and doing some weird sort of dance now, opposite Derek.

He makes the first move, surprising Derek, springing out of the weird arm throwing dance, into a roundhouse kick that just barely misses his nose.

Derek steps back and gets his arms up. This may not be as easy as he thinks. He and Stiles train together like this daily but the past month, their trainer had split them up for private one on one classes with some mixed martial arts experts. Their trainer had said it’s always good to have some secrets.

It seems Stiles is about to reveal his to Derek.

Derek advances carefully and Stiles circles him. Derek gets in some light blows to the sides of Stiles’ raised arms before Stiles slips behind him, gets his arms around his head and takes his feet.

The next thing Derek knows is, he’s on the mat, Stiles underneath him but with an iron grip around him and he’s having to tap out before he passes out. Stiles lets him go and stands up triumphantly.

Derek coughs and looks at him with disbelief.

“Jesus Stiles, that was fast,” Derek coughs,

“The only time I’ve ever been pleased to hear that statement,” he grins and quips.

Derek and his wolf both hate that and it’s a feral growl that come out when he thinks about Stiles fucking anyone else.

“Oh shit, no wolf powers,” Stiles shrieks, as he dodges Derek’s energised advance.

Derek does hold the wolf back, barely, but Stiles is thrown enough, that when he kicks out again, Derek grabs his leg and yanks, pulling the younger man into his body. When they slam together Derek gets his arms around him, Stiles’ own arms pinned to his sides, under Derek’s hold. 

He gently lifts Stiles off the ground, squeezing him tight enough to let him know that he’s won this and he could do some serious rib damage if he wanted to. They’re front to front and both men are breathing heavily now. Stiles grits his teeth and they’re face to face, Stiles’ toes just off the floor.

“Give?” Derek whispers to him, so close he can feel Stiles’ breath ghosting over his lips.

“Yeah,” Stiles exhales, breathless.

Derek unlatches his arms slowly and instantly regrets it as Stiles slides slowly down his front. They’re practically stuck together anyway and Derek doesn’t let go fully when Stiles’ sneakers touch the ground.

Stiles licks his lips again and this time when Derek’s eyes trace the movement Stiles lets out a little groan. Derek looks almost as surprised at Stiles is. They break apart, still kind of slow.

“This is it then,” Stiles says and it really doesn’t feel like he’s taking about sparring.

“This is it,” Derek replies, and it’s a weighted comment.

They circle each other again, slower this time, both have their arms up defensively. Derek advances first but like he said, Stiles is fast, like a cat. Stiles fakes a kick to Derek’s left side, exactly the same as last time and when Derek goes to grab him again Stiles pulls back and grabs his arm instead.

He uses Derek’s own weight against him and drops back to the mat heavily, back first, pulling Derek over him by his arm. Derek flies over Stiles and in a split second, Stiles and has rolled and followed and he’s straddling Derek’s chest, pinning him with his strong thigh muscles.

He still has a hold on Derek’s left arm, but his right arm is trapped down his side, under Stiles’ legs. He bucks his hips but Stiles still has a free arm and he leans back and pushes down hard on Derek’s abdomen with the palm of his hand.

Derek knows he’s done.

“Give, or I’ll make u pee your pants,” Stiles shoves his weight down into his chest and it makes Derek let out an “oomf.”

Derek is so done. Mainly because all he can think about is fucking Stiles.

If Stiles moved his palm about an inch lower, it would be grazing Derek’s rock hard erection right now. Derek shifts his hips, wishing it would happen. He doesn’t break eye contact with Stiles, whose pupils are absolutely blown.

Stiles is having similar thoughts.

If Stiles moved about three inches up Derek’s body, he could slide his dick right into Derek’s amazing mouth. He would love to fuck his beautiful face from this angle. He’s sure he would slide right down Derek’s throat.

Stiles shifts his hips at the feeling of his rapidly filling cock and Derek, not really able to look anywhere else, snaps his eyes down to Stiles’ thin gym shorts and the obvious bulge there.

Derek’s mouth drops open slightly and his cheeks are red. He’s not helping Stiles’ fantasy.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles whispers, hoping his unrequited crush on Derek doesn’t get him his dick chopped of. Or worse, Derek won’t want anything to do with him.

He lets Derek go and gets up to move off but Derek grabs his hips and Stiles stumbles. When he sits back down it’s on top of the largest, hardest dick he’s ever felt (ok so he’s only felt his own, but it’s still slightly bigger than that).

Both Derek and Stiles moan loudly but suddenly Derek is pushing him off and Stiles lands hard on his butt on the mat.

He feels absolutely crushed and hurt and won’t meet Derek’s eyes.

When the gym door bangs open moments later, he’s thankful for the distraction Mr. Smith (if that’s your real name...) brings.

Derek is standing up, staring at Stiles, trying to silently communicate to him.

He doesn’t need to though, Stiles can take a hint.

He almost doesn’t hear it when Mr. Smith says,

“Should have known you two would be first here, considering you finished joint top in the whole class.”

Stiles is still numb when he takes his envelope containing his documents from Mr. Smith and walks out of the gym without a backward glance. For the best and brightest in his class, how did he get this situation so wrong.

——————— ———

 

The club in the neighbouring county is about twice the size of Jungle back home. It has balcony’s and high ceilings and is Derek’s idea of a worst nightmare.

But, it’s where the whole class had agreed to go celebrate, booking a private area to get suitably drunk. 

As soon as Stiles had left the gym, Derek had tried to follow him to talk to him and explain he wasn’t rejecting him but Mr. Smith had other ideas.

He’d taken him, for the entire day, to the main head office building to meet his new boss. He hadn’t taken any of the other recruits but apparently, he and Stiles would be working together on a case almost immediately, due to them finishing top of the class.

Stiles should be sharing this with him, but he wouldn’t pick up his phone to Derek and Mr. Smith had said he’d catch up with Stiles tomorrow about it.

It was nearly 8pm by the time Derek had got back to the training dorms and when he’d knocked on Stiles’ door, he didn’t answer. 

Sonia, an small, pretty, black girl from Georgia, has the room next to Stiles. She’d heard Derek knocking and popped her head out and invited him to the club. They were all celebrating their passing out and Derek was about to decline.

She has a soft voice, and a punch that could put a man twice her size on his ass. Derek would know, she’d done it to him in training more than once.

She’d shrewdly said to him, 

“I overheard Stiles and Jeremy earlier, talking about going...” and Derek can barely hold in his snarl.

That comment was why Derek had showered in record time and was meeting Sonia in five minutes to head to the club.

Fucking Jeremy. He had asked Derek during literally their first week here, if Stiles was single and could Derek “wingman him” so he could “tap that tight ass”. 

Derek had nearly been kicked out during his trial period for getting into a fight. 

It was only that Sonia had overheard and she’d told their superiors that Jeremy had been making some derogatory comments.

Stiles had asked for details of course, but Sonia, to be fair to her, hadn’t ratted Derek out and Derek had just said he’d been being crude about people. He wanted to spare Stiles from creeps like that.

Stiles had eyed him at the time, as if he didn’t believe him but he’d let it go.

Considering Stiles and Derek were practically joined at the hip morning, noon and night, Jeremy had backed off. He just politely said good morning to them now, but Derek did notice, if he was late to dinner, Jeremy usually sat a little closer to Stiles. Creep.

“Stiles was on his own, looking like a sad little puppy at dinner, so I sat with him,” Sonia keeps talking while Derek locks up his door. He’s wearing his black jeans and a tight black t-shirt. He’s leaving the leather tonight, it’s warm enough as it is.

“Then Jeremy came over and sat with us,” Sonia keeps going, ignoring the way Derek’s body tenses and she links arms with him, ”he’s such a dick, but he asked where you were and Stiles said he wasn’t sure.”

Derek bares his teeth and it seems he’s gone back to his non-verbal, good old days.

“So Jeremy said he should come party with everyone tonight,” Sonia’s keeping step with him, “Stiles said he was going to probably just chill in his room and Jeremy said he was too pretty to stay in.”

Derek closes his eyes and lets Sonia lead him, as he’s sure they’re bleeding red.

“Stiles still said no. But then Jeremy told him he thought he’d heard you saying you’d be there. Then Stiles got a bit mad and said he’d go. But I knew Jeremy hadn’t seen you today when you came back with Mr. Smith. I got your back sugar, that’s why I waited for you,” Derek doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve such loyalty. Her attitude, general toughness but soft heart reminds him of Erica.

He stops, looks her up and down.

“You look lovely tonight,” he says seriously and she throws her head back and her cackles echo down the hallway.

“I’m not your cup of tea darl, but I know who is,” and she grabs his arm and they go to the waiting cabs and on to the club.

 

——————————

 

When they arrive, Derek is assaulted immediately by the loud music and mix of sweaty scents combined with alcohol. It’s not all that pleasant. 

Sonia drags him up a flight of stairs past a barrier with a private bouncer, who she shouts their code names to. The giant of a man checks them off his list.

Derek is Mr. Winchester and Sonia is Mrs. Scully. Derek stops at the bouncers’ side and barely contains a grimace when he asks, 

“Is Mr. Giles already here?” 

The bouncer eyes him warily but gives him a very brief nod.

Derek walks purposefully Into the smaller area. The music isn’t quite so loud here, but it still rattles Dereks teeth and he scans the room looking for Stiles. 

He could pick him out of a concert crowd. He’s sitting on a couch at the back of the room with Jeremy and they’re talking. Stiles is tipping his head back and laughing. Derek loves that sound.

Derek loves him. He’s suspected it for a while, before he even left Beacon hills he knew it was an eventuality.

How could he not, he thinks bitterly, the guy is amazing. Stiles is funny, smart, brave and loyal. 

He is powerful in his body and his mind and god, his laugh. He thinks that’s what does it tonight. When he sees but can’t hear that laugh, because of the stupid music, he knows exactly what is sounds like and it’s all for Jeremy. 

Derek dies a little inside when he thinks of never hearing that laugh directed at him again and he make a beeline for the couches. 

Sonia grabs his arm though,

“Sugar, I really think you should get a drink first. Maybe it will make it less obvious that you’re about to throw the boy over your shoulder and carry him out of here. Do it with a bud in hand and you might pull off semi casual,” Sonia’s smiling kindly at him.

When he chances another look at Stiles, Jeremy has moved his arm around the back of Stiles’ neck, like he’s trying to get it around him.

“Screw casual,” Derek thinks. It’s about time he lay his cards on the table. 

But then Stiles snaps his head up all of a sudden, obviously sensing eyes on him. He meets Derek’s heated gaze and for a split second and Derek thinks he sees hope.

Then it changes into something more reserved. Stiles is standing up and pointing Jeremy in the direction of the dance floor. 

 

——————————

 

When Stiles sees Derek, it just breaks his heart. He’s his best friend, probably the same level of besties as him and Scott, but at the moment, he needs to just work through the rejection of not having his feelings reciprocated, before he can get back to that level of platonic with Derek.

He shouldn’t have got his feelings all over him. The way Derek had freaked in the gym, when he thought that Stiles was attracted to him, couldn’t have been clearer. Stiles was just glad Mr. Smith had come in, so he could make his escape and not face Derek’s pity.

He just wants to have a good time tonight. He’s a 19 year old virgin for petes sake. Maybe that’s why he’s been so hung up on Derek, having nothing else to focus on.

Jeremy’s always been fairly nice to him. He got in a fight with Derek that one time but other than that, Jeremy always compliments him or says something nice. He doesn’t think Jeremy’s a sleaze, there’s probably worse people to lose your virginity to. 

As soon as he has the thought, he knows it won’t happen. He’s resigned to pining after Derek for his whole life. He loves him. He doesn’t want anyone else. That won’t stop him having a good time tonight though. He’s going to dance goddamn it. 

So when he sees Derek, he decides, that after his fourth beer, he’s buzzed enough to boogie. He asks Jeremy if he feels like dancing and they make their way out to the main dance floor together, out of the VIP area.

They squeeze into the thrum of the crowd and Jeremy begins swaying to the beat. Stiles has less rhythm, but gets into it anyway, dancing with a few people around them and managing to create a weird dance off with him and a girl they know from the academy. Stiles is just doing his best “screw in the lightbulb” mixed with one hand doing “the drowning man” when he feels a body slide up behind him.

His thoughts immediately go to stubble and Derek, but when shorter arms go round his torso and he feels someone grind roughly against his ass, the height is all wrong, the smell is all wrong and he realises he’s sorely mistaken. 

He turns around, not able to back up because of the crowd and he sees Jeremy’s leering face inches from his. 

“Hey babe, don’t deny you want me, you’ve been making fuck me eyes all evening,” and wow, was Stiles sorely mistaken when he assumed Jeremy wasn’t a sleaze.

Stiles pushes at his chest.

“Jeremy get the fuck off me, bad touchy” he says, grimacing

Jeremy seems not to get the message and he leans in and presses his lips to Stiles’.

Stiles pulls his fist back to knock the guy on his ass, when all of a sudden he’s not there any more.

Considering there was no room to move just a second before, the immediate crowd are giving them a wide berth now.

Stiles is looking at Derek’s back and what a lovely back it is, in that tight black t-shirt, muscles rippling as he suspends Jeremy off the floor by his neck, with one hand.

“He said no.” Derek’s growling.

Stiles is going to have to get him to calm down or they will be having a wolfy situation on their hands, he is sure of it.

He runs his hand down Derek’s arm from behind and says, 

“Drop him Der, I was handling it,” he shouts.

Derek does drop him and Jeremy clutches his neck and rages silently at them. The crowd starts to return to normal and carries on dancing and Derek turns to face Stiles.

He cups his jaw, as if checking him for damage and Stiles can’t take the tenderness. He motions with his thumb for them to go somewhere a bit quieter and Derek grabs his hand and tugs him gently through the people. 

They’re just off the dance floor and making their way to an empty booth nearby, when from just behind him Stiles hears a screech, 

“Cocktease slut,” and it’s Jeremy, shoving him forward into Derek.

Stiles turns and he knows Derek’s going to go beserk, he can already feel him tensing and he doesn’t want him to get in trouble for being in two fights with the same person. He doesn’t even think when he spins around and socks Jeremy straight in the nose. 

There’s blood everywhere, his nose explodes beautifully and he’s crying like a little bitch by the time the bouncer comes over and after a quick explanation from the surrounding people, the bouncer kicks Jeremy out.

Derek doesn’t let go of Stiles’ hand when he pulls him into the booth. It’s been a long emotional day and Stiles is done.

“I’m done Der,” he says.

“Let me explain,” Derek ducks his head and rubs circles into Stiles’ hand. Stiles pulls his hand back.

“No look. I get it. I really do, you couldn’t have been clearer this morning, shoving me away. Then you just fucked off all day so you didn’t have to face me. I make you uncomfortable, I get it. I know you tried to call me but I just couldn’t take the pity apologies. I just can’t do it. I’ll always be your friend, I swear, I just need a month or so and some space to get over this. I’m sorry, my feelings are just in the way, I know they are,” Stiles mutters in a rush.

“Stiles...” Derek sounds exasperated.

“I just can’t do it. I’ve never been with anyone, you know, dick to dick, or dick to anything really and I think it’s just making me want you even more, but it’s not just that. I really like you. You’re amazing and smart and funny. You’re even cute! Like when you think I’m too busy watching a movie on the laptop and you shove handfuls of popcorn into my hood and snigger to yourself. And I always put my hood up even though I’m only walking across the hall, just to make you laugh, because god when you laugh Der... but you don’t want me and that’s fine, but I need some time,” he smiles sadly and looks down.

“Are you done?” Derek’s breathing heavy,

“Yeah. I’m done. Sorr-oomf,” Stiles is cut off by Derek cupping his jaw with his large hands and pulling him into his lap so he’s straddling him. Derek looks straight into his eyes.

“You’re a total dumbass, for top of the class, you’re an absolute idiot,” he says before he kisses him senseless. It’s angry, possessive and hot as fuck.

Derek pulls back. He needs to say this before it gets any further.

“You’re so quick to assume everything. I want you. God you have no idea. I pushed you off this morning in the gym because I heard Mr. Smith coming and I didn’t want to give him an excuse to not let us work together. It’s not allowed for partner agents to be in a relationship and I’d heard rumours, they wanted us to work our first case together. Which is true by the way. That’s where I was all day, Mr. Smith dragged me over to see our new case, he thought we’d be excited after our news this morning. But you ran off. And didn’t pick up the phone... so you’re an ass.”

Stiles just sits there with his mouth open in shock. It’s just too tempting for Derek now, knowing what he tastes like. Like honey and sugar. Like home.

Derek licks into his mouth just as Stiles gets with the programme and starts returning the kiss, rolling his ass down into Derek’s lap. Derek throws his head back, eyes closed and groans. A couple of people have turned to look at them and Stiles whispers into Derek’s ear.

“Can we get out of here?”

“Fuck yes,” Derek replies and when he sees Sonia waving, grinning from the side of the bar, he can’t help but throw Stiles over his shoulder and carry him out of the club.

 

——————————

 

They’re back at the dorms and halfway up the corridor. Derek has Stiles pinned to the wall, holding his hands above his head and he’s licking and sucking his way up his neck and his shoulders.

Derek’s knee is pressed between Stiles’ legs and he can feel his hard dick against his leg. They’re shamelessly dry humping each other and Derek can’t believe he’s waiting so long to get here.

“Der your mouth, oh god your mouth, I want to stick my dick in it. Fuck you’re perfect,” he’s rambling and it seems Stiles is as vocal in this area, as he is in all other areas.

Derek pulls back and gives him a dirty look.

“My mouth?” He asks incredulously, “I’ve had to watch you chew pens, lick ice creams like they’re going to melt in ten seconds, you practically suck off your morning banana every day and I sit there, everyday, pretending it’s my dick in your mouth,”

He loves the groan Stiles makes like his words are killing him. He’s never been very verbal but it seems that Stiles brings out a lot in him, so he keeps going.

“My mouth is nothing compared to your pink, full lips Stiles. I had to jerk in the shower twice at lunch time because Monday morning, you ate that sugared donut and kept licking your lips for about an hour, chasing the sugar.” 

Stiles rolls his hips groaning loudly because he knows it’s true. If he’s honest, he might have deliberately sat across from Derek’s desk in the training room, just to get a reaction.

“You didn’t say anything,” Stiles moans.

“I know. I’m regretting that now... I’m going to make up for it now,” Derek licks back into his mouth and he’s got his hands under Stiles’ ass.

Stiles gets the message and jumps, wrapping his legs around Derek.

They kiss all the way to Derek’s door and he puts Stiles down to get his keys out of his jeans.

Stiles leans back on the wall, wiggles his eyebrows at him and says,

“Your place or mine,” and Derek can’t help but laugh. He’s ridiculous.

He gets the door unlocked and they’re both laughing and this time Stiles presses Derek back into it, sealing his body to Derek’s front.

Stiles rubs the lines by the sides of Derek’s eyes and Derek can’t help the answering grin.

“I love it when you laugh,” he says seriously to Derek and smiles shyly. Derek thinks he might mean something else.

“I love you,” Derek says plainly. He means it and he thinks they’ve waited too long as it is.

Stiles just stares at him dumbstruck. His mouth is hanging open. Derek’s eyes are drawn to it again. He can’t imagine a time in his life where he won’t be.

“Shut your mouth or I’ll put something in it,” he says.

“You just told me you loved me, then followed it with that...” Stiles is flushed and he looks so pleased, “besides I want you to put something in it... but first...”

Stiles flips Derek around and presses his hard dick to the ass of Derek’s jeans. Derek bucks his hips and it’s Stiles that growls.

“Right. So I’m a virgin,” Derek growls at this, pleased beyond any right he has, that he gets to be the first person to fuck him. If it has anything to do with him, he’s also going to be the last person.

“So stop me if I’m doing something wrong but this is the last time I’m going to say that, Ok?” 

Derek can’t speak. This assertive side of Stiles has got him harder than he’s ever been in his life.

“Derek... say Ok...” he’s pressing his mouth against Derek’s ear, pressing his dick hard into his clothed ass, strong hands on his hips. He takes Derek’s hands and places them on the wall so he’s holding himself up. Stiles lets go.

“Ok,” Derek bites out and the next thing he feels is Stiles undoing his belt buckle, reaching around him and hears him dropping to his knees. He’s smoothly pulling his jeans and boxers down to Derek’s ankles and he nudges them further apart with his knees.

Derek nearly comes when he feels Stiles palm each of his cheeks in his hands, spreading them.

It’s nothing compared to when he licks him from his balls to the top of his ass. 

“Oh my fucking god, I thought you were a virgin,” Derek moans, knees wobbling.

Stiles doesn’t answer, it appears he’s found something that he enjoys more than talking and he begins to finger fuck Derek with one finger, as he licks into him. When he has two fingers in and he’s licking around them, Derek is seeing stars and his dick is about to explode. He’s pushing himself back, needing more and Stiles seems to pick up on this.

He pulls his fingers out and goes to town on his tight hole, his long tongue breaching him where his fingers had loosened him before. It’s wet and hot and perfect and when Stiles tilts his head and jams his tongue as deep as it will go, Derek comes with a shout all over the door. His legs give and he’d be on the floor if Stiles hadn’t spun him around and pinned him to the door again.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen and I watch a lot of porn,” Stiles breathes.

Derek kisses him and he tastes like pure sex and it awakens the wolf in him.

It’s an animalistic strength and need to claim him, show him how much he needs him, that has him literally throwing Stiles onto the bed. 

He giggles as Derek undoes his jeans and pulls off Stiles’ t-shirt. Derek’s t-shirt is the last thing to go, after he kicks off his shoes and jeans, that were pooled at his ankles.

They take a second and eye each other, fully naked for the first time. Stiles is flushed and his dick is long and cut and Derek can’t take his eyes off it. Stiles is having similar thoughts apparently because he’s staring at Dereks’ thick, long dick. He licks his lips.

“God I want to fuck you,” they both say at exactly the same time.

This has Stiles throwing his head back and exposing his neck again, laughing. Derek launches himself at the blatant invitation and scents Stiles there and bites and licks him, marking him.

“How about we do both. I want to come with you inside me first though,” Stiles breathes and goes to reach for his own dick. Derek takes his hand and interlinks his fingers with his and kisses him softly.

Stiles’ answer is to do a sit up, kiss him so softly it’s almost tearing him apart and push Dereks’ chest gently back so he’s laying on the bed and Stiles has got him pinned, not unlike this morning in the gym.

Stiles has one hand on Derek’s chest steadying himself and his strong thighs clench Dereks sides. Derek rolls his hips and they both moan when Derek’s thick cock brushes his dry hole.

Stiles rocks back and his dick pulses a bead of precome onto Derek’s chest and he thinks it might be the hottest thing he’s ever seen. Stiles looks him right in the eyes, a look of wonder on his face.

Then he’s crawling up Derek’s torso and Derek gets it. They’re playing it out like the gym. When Stiles’ dick is in licking distance and his thighs are framing Derek’s head, he opens his mouth and licks the underside of his length. There is a lot to lick.

Stiles cuts off a strangled moan and pushes his cock gently into Derek’s mouth, past his lips. But Derek’s so far past done. He grabs Stiles’ perfect ass and pulls him, so his dick slides down his throat and Derek’s stubble is touching Stiles’ balls. It’s perfect.

“Oh fuck, Derek,” he whines and puts his hands either side of Derek’s head letting him set the pace. Derek sucks him for all he’s worth and pulls him down his throat until Stiles is warning him he’s going to come, but Derek doesn’t let go. He just swallows and moans around his dick and jams him down as far as he can go, eyes watering. 

Stiles comes with a shout and Derek takes it all and when he lets go of Stiles, he just collapses next to him.

“That was fucking amazing,” Stiles says panting and Derek wants him so bad. His dick is rock solid again and he needs to fuck him. Needs it like water, like breathing.

 

Derek can’t take much more. He flips Stiles over onto his front and reaches for his bedside drawer where he keeps his lube.

When he pushes his finger into Stiles’ tight hole, he bites gently on his thigh to distract him from the sting. What he gets is Stiles pushing his ass back onto his hand.

“I’m a virgin but I’ve had a finger in there, come on Derek,” he moans

Derek growls possessively and for his whining, Stiles gets another finger, alongside the first and nip to the left ass cheek. He licks around his fingers, finger fucks him for as long as he can take then pulls them out and sucks on Stiles’ wet hole. 

“Oh you fucker,” Stiles sounds like he’s about to pass out.

“Mine,” Derek growls around teeth that are just a tad to sharp for normal and he pushes three fingers back into him.

“Ahhh, Oh fuck, that feels so good, Derek, you possessive fucker, I only meant I’ve fingered myself but fuck, do that again,” and Derek fingers him until Stiles is begging.

“Fuck me, Derek please, I need you. I’ve needed you for a year, please, I know you’ve had sex, so it’s not as desperate for you, but please fuck me, I can’t take it.”

At that statement Derek flips Stiles back over onto his back, so he can look at him, ignoring his protest when he pulls his fingers out of him. He grabs his hands again and put puts them above his head, loving the way Stiles squirms, even though he could get free, if he wanted.

Derek feels like he needs Stiles to know this isn’t just a fuck to him.

“You think I’m not desperate for you? I can’t breathe without you. If you’re not in the same room, I think about where you are. You made me want to have a life. To live. You made me want you. I’ve never had full sex with a man. Stuff. But not sex. And I’ve definitely never let someone fuck me. Never wanted to until you,” Stiles has gone quiet and is staring at him in wonder.

“And I’ve definitely never had sex with someone I loved,” Derek adds quietly, looking him straight in the eye.

Stiles seems to have run out of words and instead he locks his ankles round Derek’s waist. Derek’s thick cock brushes his wet hole and they both are panting deeply as Derek sinks into him, inch by inch.

They both don’t move for a few seconds, Derek mainly because he’s afraid he’s going to come with the hot, tight heat of Stiles around him, combined with the view of his toned chest and beautiful face looking down at him. Stiles looks like he’s contemplating the meaning of life.

Derek can’t hold back much longer and he gives a gentle roll of his hips that has Stiles fluttering his eyelashes and rocking his hips back into him. 

Derek begins to fuck him, slowly at first. He doesn’t think he will ever get used to this feeling, he’s probably going to want to fuck him all day, every day.

He chokes off a laugh because he realises he might get a chance because they’re going to be partners, for the foreseeable future. No classes. Late nights working on cases. He slows the roll of his hips, hoping he conveys that he wants this future with Stiles.

“What. Are. You... Smiling. At,” Stiles pants and bites his lip.

“I thought about you as my partner. In tight jeans and an FBI badge and a gun, chasing down perps,” Derek punctuates his sentence with a snap of hips that has Stiles crying out.

“Thinking about fucking you on the desk when we’re working late,” he fucks into him hard again.

“Thinking about you, fucking me, against that door, where you had your tongue in my ass,” Derek pants and shit, he’s talking himself into coming too fast,

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, harder,“ Stiles is as eloquent as ever.

It seems he’s not the only one who is desperate and close though, when Stiles pushes frantically on his chest. They both moan at the loss when Derek pulls out but when Stiles gets on his belly and presents his fucked out hole to him, Derek sinks in deep in one stroke. You can blame that little display, when he proceeds to try to fuck Stiles through the mattress. 

Apparently that’s exactly what Stiles wanted because, just after less then a minute of pounding from Derek’s dick and the friction of the sheets, he’s coming hard, untouched and clenching down tight on Derek’s cock as he does so, hands clenched in the sheets. Derek falls onto him and sinks his teeth into his shoulder, enough to make a mark.

Derek feels like his orgasm is literally wrenched from him by Stiles’ body clenching around him and he comes on a howl, buried to the hilt in him and he rocks it out gently, pushing his dick in deep, filling him with cum and nuzzling into his neck.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been when he rolls off onto his back and he just lays there staring at Stiles, still on his front. Literally fucked into the mattress... after a couple of minutes he actually leans a hand over to check if he’s breathing, seeing as he’s face down but Stiles turns his head to the side, so they’re facing each other.

Derek hopes Stiles meant it all before. Stiles pushes at Dereks frowny eyebrows, knowing he’s worried about something.

His grin is blinding.

“So I was thinking, seeing as we’re just awesome together, naturally, do you think we can role play with your new badge and gun, you as a sexy FBI agent and me as a bad, naughty perp like you said, then order pizza and charge it to Jeremy’s room and watch bad cop movies all night? I’ll let you put popcorn in my hood... ” Stiles says seriously.

Derek growls and rolls him onto his back again, kissing him gently, slowly, trying to convey how happy he makes him. How much he needs him and wants him. How he’d do anything for him.

“Never getting rid of me now sexy wolf,” Stiles whispers into his mouth and he knows Stiles is right there with him, “you broke me, you bought me and I’m expensive you know.” 

Derek can feel his dick hardening again with Stiles wriggling under him.

Well, he’d better get his moneys worth then.

 

——————————


End file.
